


Fly Home Flyboy

by Aynde



Series: Smart-mouths Stay in the Cockpit [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arguing Parents, Gen, I don't think I made Ben angsty enough, Kind of saccharine sweet with family feels, Oneshot, Pre The Force Awakens, don't argue where the kids can listen, prequel to stop flying solo, though this was probably something Ben needed to hear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynde/pseuds/Aynde
Summary: Leia won the argument about Ben, but like hell will Han let Leia be the one to break the news.Ben is Han's son, dammit, and if Han hadn't come back early he might have returned to his kid already being gone.





	Fly Home Flyboy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JonSnowWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonSnowWhite/gifts).



When Han got back early, he wasn't expecting the reception he got. Much less the oncoming Skywalker Storm.

Tonight's Topic? Ben and the Force.

For fucks sake, Han wanted to pull his hair out.

Leia had prepared and won her argument about what to do with Ben. Of course, these days that was the story of Han's life, right there. Leia wins. Every time.

This time - not the first time really, but Han felt bile rise in his gut as he thought about what he just gave up - Han wished she hadn't. Ben was his son, and the last thing that Han wanted for him was to send him off to live some ascetic lifestyle with his no-fun brother-in-law.

Han blew air out through his lips and for a fleeting moment, thought about just going. Grabbing Chewie, the Falcon, and getting off of the Republic Senates binneal flavor planet.

Han made it three steps before reason broke through his hot-headedness. Han needed to man up and break the news to Ben before Leia could.

Moments later he was rapping at the door. "Ben? You in there?"

No response.

"I will open this door!" Han called out, noting the light streaming out under the door.

Nothing. Han huffed, and reached out to the control panel. He'd barely begun noisily ripping the casing off when the door opened with a hiss.

"What do you want." His son, eloquent as always, muttered sulkily. Han shoved the thing back onto it's box, but it clattered to the floor loudly.

Ben glared at him.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'll fix it later." Han dismissed, and stepped past Ben into his room.

Han looked around the room, noting the dust on all the shelves that contrasted with the perfectly hung clothing in the closet. Ben cleared his throat and threw himself on his bed. "What." He ground out.

Han sighed. "Look, Ben, can we talk?" He glanced in to his son's dark eyes, just like Leia's. "This is important." And there was that derisive scoff, also just like his mother's.

"Is this about Snoke? Look, I told mom he's just helping me find datacards from the old Jedi Temple." Ben said, tugging his hair in frustration. "I have to learn from  _somewhere_."

Han sat heavily on Ben's desk chair. "You do." Han admitted, and Ben's eyes flew to him in shock. Han knew now that this situation was a lot of his own fault; he was too dismissive of that mumbo-jumbo, not supportive enough when Ben went looking.

It was biting Han on the ass now, go figure.

"Wait, Snoke?" Han backtracked. "Leia didn't tell me about any Snoke. Ben, who is that?"

Ben gave his dad a wary look, clearly already expecting an argument.

"He's... this old guy who researches ancient Jedi lore." Ben started hesitantly, mumbling a bit into his hand. Han shifted, suddenly uneasy. Ben's body language was all over the place, and Han had a sinking suspicion that, no matter what Ben was telling him about some successful busybody, his son was uncomfortable. "He's been showing me things from the old database, techniques to control the Force."

_Our son needs to learn the Force, Han! From the **Light** , before the only thing he knows is power._

Leia knew.

Han's expression tightened, but he relaxed it at the wary look Ben shot him. Not you, kid. Han intentionally eased himself, and watched as his too-sensitive son picked up on it and slowly relaxed.

Shit, if ever there was a sign that him and Leia fighting had ruined his son, this was it.

Had he really spent so much time out in the galaxy that he never gave Ben the Stranger Danger talk?

Han couldn't remember.

Abruptly, Han stood up and started to pace. Was it too late for that kind of talk? If Ben was balking at General Organa putting her foot down, it might be.

He decided to change the subject, back to what he came here for. "Look, kid." Ben frowned at him, and Han belatedly remembered his kid found that nervous tick demeaning. "I don't know what you've learned so far. You know I'm bad at this Jedi crap."

Ben nodded slowly, dark eyes tracking Han. It was a truth, something said to and around Ben since he was in the womb. Han slowly stopped in front of Ben's shelf, looking at all the old books, datapads, and unopened spaceship models. Han reached out and touched the Correlian YT-1300f model, swiping the dust down slowly. "And I should start by apologizing."

Ben's eyes went wide, then he just... closed down.

Han wasn't Force-sensitive. But he could  _feel_ it, at that moment.

He spun around.

Ben was shaking on the bed, shoulders hunched down and his hands grasping tightly at his own wrist. In three steps, Han was kneeling in front of his son.

His hand hesitated, and then pulled at Ben's, tugging him away from injuring himself.

"Ben." Han called quietly.

Wet eyes shot daggers at him.

Han squeezed Ben's hands, but then, a second later, anxiously quipped, "D'you need a hug?"

Ben ripped his hands away. "I'm not five anymore!" He shouted at him.

Han sat back on his heels and -didn't- let out a sigh of relief. Familiar ground.

He took a breath, thought of Luke, of Leia, hell, even of Old Ben chiding him for patience, and broke the news. "I'm sorry. I wasn't there, and now you're paying the price. Leia..." Han cleared his throat. "Your mother's decided to send you to Luke. For all that training that I just don't understand, but you apparently need."

Ben's face was bloodless.

Then he was gone.

Han ran a hand through his hair. "Shit. That... could have gone better." He muttered to the empty room.

Leia's voice broke him out of his misery. "I don't know. Sounded like that went about as well as anything does these days."

Han frowned up at her,  _a_ _nd whose fault is that,_  was on the tip of his tongue, but he'd already lost one argument with her tonight. No need to make it more.

He stood, and moved back over to the shelves.

"Han." Leia's hand touched his elbow.

He shook it off.

" **Han.** " Her hand, now as firm as her voice, gripped his elbow. He met her eyes, and saw that same glare he'd seen not minutes ago once again. "Ben needs this. It's a fact, not a fault."

"You're wrong." He told her sharply, but was gentle in removing her hand. He held it for a second, then let go and reached out, plucking the YT Freighter model from the shelf. "Ben doesn't  _need_ to  _lose his family_."

"We've already gone over this." Leia started exasperatedly. "And Ben's not loosing anything! Luke  _is_ family!"

His eyes bored into hers. "Well maybe I also don't want to  _lose my son_." He spat acidly. Leia's face hardened. He pointed a finger at her. "And if that's what  **I** feel, then I can almost guarantee that that's also what Ben,  _my son,_ is feeling."

Han walked away.

"You're wrong." Leia called at his back. "You lost him a long time ago; it's only now that _he's_ the one leaving that you suddenly care."

His fist tightened on the box, indenting the thin board. "He's my son!" Han called over his shoulder, before facing forward and meeting startled brown eyes. "I've always cared." He said, quieter, to the stock still form in the hallway.

Han reached out - his son's face, so broken - and touched his shoulder instead.

* * *

With a hiss of the doors, Chewbacca entered the Falcon and called out.

"Back here!" Han yelled in reply, and Chewie lumbered into the room. Han was at a desk, plasteel parts scattered around in front of him.

The Wookiee put the item on the desk and told Han the total, then demanded what it was for.

"Ben." Han said distractedly. "I want him to have a way to always find us."

Chewie gestured at the parts, grumbling a question in Shyriiwook. Han blinked a few times, then looked at him. "Well, no, I'm not going to tell him about it. It's... well." Han scratched at his chin. "I know my son. He'd just toss this thing out an airlock if I just _gave_ it to him." He gestured at the cloaked binary beacon he'd sent Chewbacca out for. "But hiding it in this here model? Chewie, if I can get Ben to keep it, then when he needs it most he'll have it."

Chewbacca was skeptical.

"No, no, it's perfect, see." Han gestured. "These things, they don't fall apart  _easily_ , but they will break, so long as you don't glue the shit out of it. So the way I figure, the moment Ben's temper reaches it's breaking point and he shatters the thing, he'll see  _this_ " Han held up the beacon, "And suddenly, he's got a way out, right on his lap."

Chewie was silent for several moments.

Then he rolled his eyes, called Han an over complicated moron, and wandered off to play Dejarik.

Han snorted and shook his head.

He, at least, knew better.

"Chewie, you sure the size you got will fit?" Han called out, eyeing the beacon in front of him.

Shyriiwook roared out behind him. "Might need a razor? Hell, if you'd told me that beforehand I'd've shaved the pieces  _before_ I put the damn thing together." Han grumbled, but reached out to his tool bench.

" **URAAAWRAUUUUUA.** " Chewie whined at him.

"Its..." Han grunted, pushing against the plasteel with the cutter. "Complicated."

More Shyriiwook, because that was a too obvious Han Solo answer.

"Fine. You should know too." Han rolled his eyes. "Leia's sending the kid to Luke. I'm not letting Ben go without a safety net out. Luke'll ruin him."

Chewbacca shot to his feet and roared in Han's face.

"What? Of course I was going to tell you!" Han protested.

There was a smattering of insults to Han's person, and then he was watching Chewie exit the Falcon. Han sighed. "Well, if he wants to go bond with the kid, he can bond with the kid." He picked up the tool again.

It was late when the model's insides were opened enough for the little, expensive doohickey. Han fit it in, and sighed. A few snaps, a bit of glue, and it'd be done.

It wasn't quite perfect though. Not that Han cared about sloppiness, no; it was just that it needed that extra something, to really be the Millennium Falcon. After a moment of staring, started digging through the bench drawers.

Han knew he had it in here somewhere... ah.

Paint-pen marker. Something Han really only kept around for when he scratched up Leia's speeder.

Also, at one point, used to write  **Ben** on one of the bunks, but that was besides the point.

Or maybe it was the point.

Either way, Han stuck his tongue out, squinted, and carefully wrote on the inside of the shell.

**HOME**

There. A little fiddling, and... Done.

* * *

Han found Ben slumped in Chewie's arms.

Not slumped-asleep, mind.

No, this was the exhausted slump of defeat from trying and failing to get out of a Wookiee's grasp.

Han hid a smile, and walked up.

"How is he?" He asked his partner in crime. Chewie gave a long, drawn out answer. Han hummed, watching as Ben's face went from renewed irritation all the way back down to resigned.

"Well, I've got something for him, so if you wanna let go, feel free."

Chewie roared at Han, and Ben winced, trying and failing to lift his arms to cover his ears.

"Right. Your goodbye, your time. Fair enough." Han nodded, and then stepped closer to his son. "Ben..."

Ben cleared his throat and looked away, and Han noted with amusement that his ears were a bright red. "Dad."

"I...m not good with words. So... Here." Han grabbed one of his son's hands and put the model Falcon in it.

Ben's neck strained as he looked down, recognizing it after a second and shooting back up. "The model... that's from my life-day. Six years ago... that..."

Han's expression twisted. "Yeah. The one I promised to build with you."

Brown eyes shuttered.

"With all the dust, I didn't think you'd want to take it." Han admitted, "Or that we'd have time before you left."

"So you... what, you stayed up all night for a toy?" Ben tried to sound scathing. Han's lips twitched, and Chewie grinned full teeth behind Ben's head. Kid wasn't fooling anyone.

"Well I wanted you to have it, so of course." Han smirked at him.

Ben was speechless for several seconds, but then his fingers started feeling all the grooves. "It's... heavier than I thought it would be."

Chewie rumbled out, and both Han and Ben had scandalized expressions. "No! It's  **not** the ~weight of Love~ you fool!" Han snapped reflexively.

Ben looked down, and Han winced. Hurt. From Han's big mouth.

"Okay." He grumbled softly. "Maybe it is."

Ben's lips twitched upwards, and Han counted it as a victory.

"Will you keep it?" Han asked seriously.

Ben was quiet for several moments. Clearly, he wanted to say no, but... "I'll keep it."

Han reached over and ruffled Ben's hair. Pretty soon, he'd miss the kid growing as tall as him. The thought put a lump in his throat.

"Now, am I taking you to whatever backwater pit Luke's at right now, or are you going to go with your mother?" He asked, keeping his voice light.

Chewie grumbled something. "No, it's not an of course we're taking him. It's his choice."

But not his choice to leave.

"Well, I tried, didn't I?" Han grumbled back, irritated.

Ben gripped the model tight and forced his tears back. "I uh... Mom told me she was taking me on a liner. She... she thought if you did, you'd just smuggle _me_."

Han and Chewie looked at each other over Ben's head.

Well, Leia did know them well.

Han blew out a hard breath. "I'll talk to her. See if I can get her to let us take you  _with her_."

Chewie lifted a lip to show a fang about what he thought, but Han shook his head. "I already lost. I'm counting the little victories now."

He turned to look his son in the eye. "Ben. Know that if I never see you again... you're my son, and you'll always have a place on the Falcon."

Ben grimaced. "I'm going off to be a Jedi and let go of the galaxy. I'm pretty sure that kind of attachment is forbidden."

"Who the hell cares." Han told him. "I know I don't." Which was probably the wrong thing to say, because Han *did* care, the point *was* his attachments, but Ben understood well enough his dad's cavalier speech.

Ben oofed as Chewie abruptly squeezed Ben tighter in his hug, then released him.

Leia was heading towards them.

One last thing before facing the oncoming superweapon.

"Ben, I know you're going off to get this Force thing figured out." Han told him quietly. "But that doesn't mean you have to be a Jedi." Ben's brow furrowed.

Han pointed at the oncoming Leia, steady and purposeful. "All you have to do is control it, not let it control you, and, hell I never thought I'd say this, be like your Mother."

Ben eyed her a moment, then Han.

"Don't look at me like that. Just think about it, okay?" Han huffed.

Ben surprised Han then, darting in and hugging him. Just as quickly, he was pulling away. "I have to go pack." He stammered, ears red, and fled.

Leia's steps faltered as Ben just ran past her.

They were all awkwardly quiet for several moments before Leia spoke up. "I don't want to argue anymore." She admitted quietly.

"Great." Han said. "Then don't."

Leia closed her eyes for patience.

"If you want to take him..." She sighed slowly. "You can."

"What's the catch." Han asked warily.

Leia's lips twisted. "No catch. Other than him actually arriving at Luke's." Then her expression crumbled. "I just... want him to be safe and happy, Han. Right now, he's happier with you than he is with me, but..."

Ben was devastated. It was clear in the air before them.

Han sighed. "Alright. I'll take him. On one condition."

Her eyebrows furrowed, a spark appearing and disappearing in a second. "What is it?"

Running his hand through his hair, Han caught Chewie's eyes. The Wookiee rumbled in agreement.

"You're taking time off and coming with." Han said.

Leia winced, troubled. "Han, no... I..."

He set his jaw. "No, you can't have it both ways. You wanted to take him because you didn't trust me, but now you don't even want to go yourself?"

"Han-" Leia protested.

"He's my son." Han repeated himself from earlier, eyes boring into Leia's. "But that doesn't make him any less your son too."

Her eyes closed tiredly. Han felt a spark at that little victory. "You're right."

I am? Of course I am. Han would have said once. But today, he'd gone into this knowing he was in the right.

Instead, all Han said was, "Better get packing, sweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> This here is the backstory for Stop Flying Solo. Can probably also be mock-canon, except SFS deviates.
> 
> I wasn't really planning on writing another fic, not when I've got a few going that I've only been poking at. But I was replying to someone and suddenly was like, Uh apparently I thought this through more than I thought, I should probably write it.
> 
> I have no idea when Ben was sent to the temple, but I'm ballparking him at around 14. Old enough to be an angry teenager.
> 
> Please give contribution on how I wrote Han and Leia. I was trying to balance canon with arguing couple, and I'm not sure how well it was pulled off.
> 
> Original Notes:  
> I was like, blahblahblah Ben's the type of person who needs a clue-by-four to realize something obvious, here's your obvious, Ben.
> 
> So there was this whole thing in my head, where Han's actually kind of smart because he's trying not to be sentimental, that's unmanly, and so he reasons, the Falcon isn't unmanly. The Falcon is safe. A good going away present. But, if Han got petulant teenage Ben a model ship kit, it'd just gather dust. Heck, it might even just be a kit Han had bought him and Ben never made, gathering dust in his room and Ben didn't even pack it.
> 
> And for sure, if Han just tried to awkwardly hand Ben a homing beacon it'd probably be tossed out the airlock. So there was your 'sign' - a way home.


End file.
